


Tactical Advantage

by pocketsfullofmice



Series: Sage Advice [2]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: BDSM, Clint can't type, F/M, Hair Pulling, M/M, Multi, Spanking, Steve Rogers is a sneaky dom, Sub!Tony, art kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketsfullofmice/pseuds/pocketsfullofmice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's on home turf, but Steve has a tactical advantage. A quasi-sequel to Sage Advice, but it isn't necessary to read it to understand this piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tactical Advantage

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted [here](http://colonize-snow.livejournal.com/18760.html), where the chat room names had different colours.
> 
> Please feel free to leave con crit.

_shieldslinger_

_has entered the room_

 **Sharpshooter:** so i told him that thingsd need to change else he wouldnt be invited around again  
i cnt afford to kep blunting my arowheasd on him

 **RedBack28:** you think he'll actually listen?  
hey S.S.

 **Sharpshooter:** no but its worth a shot  
not that im complaining lol

 **shieldslinger:** Hi. Please don't call me that.

 **Sharpshooter:** still havin gman troubles/?

 **shieldslinger:** I'm still confused. He's been sending me pot roasts for two weeks now.

 **RedBack28:** i generally go for flowers, but we all have different techniques. 

**Sharpshooter:** i general y go for the naked man

 **shieldslinger:** Naked Man?

 **RedBack28:** turn up naked at the person's house naked, works 2/3 times... apparently.  
i'm not too sure on Sharp's success, though.  
given his constant complaining  
anyway, S.S., you send the roasts back or what?

 **shieldslinger:** I've been taking them. He's not delivering them personally, just getting someone else to. It would be rude not to, right?

 **Sharpshooter:** sounds like free dinnr to me  
noone ever bts me free dinner

 **RedBack28:** have you actually tried *talking* to him?  
Sharp, that's because you dont know how to type without reading like a monkey

 **Sharpshooter:** you try tpying wile watching 2grls1cup

 **RedBack28:** i know one of the girls in that  
she got kicked out of the academy...

 **shieldslinger:** I called him once but only got his answering machine. I've tried talking to him at work but he keeps avoiding me, so I asked a mutual friend if T's been acting any more peculiar than normal, but she just said it was none of her business and made her excuses to leave. I don't want to ask anyone else that we know because I'm not “out” at work and I don't know if T wants people to know...  
It was only one time, anyway.  
Do I want to know what 2grls1cup is?

 **RedBack28:** in answer to you last q: no  
you want another time right?

 **shieldslinger:** I want to talk to him, first.  
It was a lot of fun, though. I hadn't done anything like it before.

 **RedBack28:** i'm going to take that as a yes

 **Sharpshooter:** you keep cominghere nd saying ho wgood it was nd then u nevr tell us wat actually happnd  
i need new masturbaatin material11!

 **shieldslinger:** I have no idea what you just said.  
What can I do? He's avoiding me. I haven't been trying to seem desperate. I've tried to make it clear I just want to talk, get back to our friendship, but he's really good at making himself scarce.

 **RedBack28:** try going to his house  
bring a roast.  
or try Naked Man.

 **Sharpshooter:** u sed u like to draw yeah???/ draw him. or naekd man. always go with naked man when ur out of options  
unless he has knivces

 **shieldslinger:** Thanks, guys. I've got to go, phone's ringing.

 _shieldslinger:_ _has left the room_

 **RedBack28:** Clint, you really should come around sometime and show me just how youve been carving Bruces back with the arrowheads

 **Sharpshooter:** NATASHA?????/ 

*

The sparks flew up on the screen and came cascading down on a deep red typeface that said, quite ominously, _YOU LOSE_. Pressing a button, Tony selected the option under it- _Play again?_ \- and found himself back at his previous save point 

'Sir, Captain Rogers is still at the door.' 

'I know,' Tony replied, curtly, slamming the buttons on his PlayStation 3 controller. 'I heard you last time.'

'He's been waiting for ten minutes, sir. He appears to be rather persistent this time.'

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony let out a loud sigh. He hadn't meant to ignore Steve; it was just that he was entering uncharted territory here. After the delirious afternoon some two and a half weeks earlier, Tony had expected to find himself luring Steve back into his clutches. Instead, the following morning he had turned up at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and found Steve unable to make eye contact and his cheeks a comparable shade to that of the Iron Man suit. Every other attempt at communication the following two days had been the same reaction. Steve thankfully spoke to him during meetings, but only with enough prickling from Tony- he figured it was the fact there were people watching. But when the icy silence returned afterwards, Tony did what he did best: act rashly without a lot of critical thought.

So the pot roasts started.

Pepper questioned him once about it, when she found the delivery receipts scattered across the lounge.

'Tony, why have you been sending casseroles to Steve?'

'They're pot roasts, and I'm still certain he doesn't know how to use an electric oven.'

Pepper arched a neatly plucked brow at him and crossed her arms across his chest.

'Maybe I should start sending some to you, too.'

'Tony.'

'You could put on a little weight.'

'Tony.'

'Not that I'm complaining. You're looking fine today, Ms Potts.'

' _Tony_.'

'Yes, ma'am?'

Pepper sighed and handed him the receipts. 'Why are you terrorising him?'

'I'm not. I told you: I don't think he can cook and I'm offering assistance.'

Pepper had left it at that, although she didn't seem happy about it. 

And then Steve called. Tony had been in a meeting at the time (rather reluctantly) and Pepper had forced him to turn his phone on silent. The idea of it had made him wriggle in his seat, but he'd conceded. Nobody important ever called during meetings, but fuck if Steve didn't have fantastic timing. On the drive home, he'd tossed over the idea of calling him back before deciding not to. Steve had made it clear he didn't want to talk.

'Sir, may I suggest that you sulking would be cured with a chat to Captain Rogers?'

'I'm not sulking, JARVIS.'

'Your vocal and behavioural patterns indicate you are, sir.' There was a pause. 'I have allowed Captain Rogers into the house, sir.'

'JARVIS!'

Tony swore loudly. He was going to need to replace that A.I. someday with a more efficient version that didn't let just anybody in his house. 

He could hear Steve's footsteps a few rooms away. Reaching for the TV remote, he lowered the volume and slipped down low on the couch, eyes still on his game. He could hear the ding of the elevator and then Steve calling his name. Scrunching lower, Tony pulled his feet up on the couch, legs bent, arms resting on his knees. A part of him didn't want Steve to find him (okay, he was sulking), to search the tower, find it presumably empty, and to leave him alone with his game and his scattered bottles of bourbon and whisky and his right fist.

'Tony.'

Fuck.

'Thanks for finally letting me in.'

'Wasn't me.'

'I was being sarcastic.'

'Huh.'

Steve entered his line of vision. He was wet, water trickling down his body and puddling beneath him. His shirt was stuck to him, as were his pants. Well, wasn't this just a fine turn of events.

'It's raining. No, scratch that. It's storming. Storming, Tony. I was starting to think you'd been shocked down in your workshop by an electrical strike.'

'Off the grid,' Tony muttered. 'Safety checks. Unlikely.'

'Until JARVIS told me you were in here,' Steve continued, nonplussed. He paused. 'Thank you for the pot roasts.'

'No worries. Glad you enjoyed them.'

Steve shuffled where he was. Tony slid his eyes over to him, then down the length of his body. He felt a lump form in his throat at the way it stuck to his chest, and a flame curl low in his belly as his eyes took in the way his pants stuck to his thighs. Finally he settled on the puddle forming below Steve's feet.

'You look ridiculous,' Steve said.

'Speak for yourself.' Tony unfurled from his cramped position, smacked the pause button and tossed the controller onto the coffee table. 'You should get a towel.'

'I couldn't find one.'

'Bathroom. Turn left, three doors down on you right.'

Tony waited until Steve was near the door before turning. His back wasn't nearly as wet, but his clothes were still damp. The barest hint of flesh was visible from where his shirt had come untucked, the hint of a waistband of Steve's underwear peeking out from the top of his jeans.

'The poor bastard is wearing his white briefs again,' Tony muttered to himself. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. He was in trouble.

Steve came back in, a towel in one hand, his feet now bare. Tony presumed his shoes were in the bathroom to dry. He pushed himself upright and slouched over his knees. Steve had moved onto drying his arms, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

'So. Going to tell me when you got into fist fucking?'

' _What_?' Steve visibly recoiled, his eyes growing wide. 'I- I don't- what even is that?'

'Your pocket. Hanky. Red. Gay code, means you love shoving your hand up a guy's- '

Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out the soaked handkerchief. He gawked out, mildly horrified, and held it out at arm's length.

'Anyway. I don't know if it's all true. Seems way too complicated to be real. But still. Might not want to go around- '

The hanky hit him square on the face. He waited for it to fall off and it landed in his lap. There was a frown on Steve's brow but a smile on his lips. 

'You're a jerk.'

The corner of Tony's eye scrunched up as he smirked. 'Ouch, Cap. That one nearly hurt.' 

A brief, somewhat shy smile, fluttered over Steve's lips. Shifting over on the couch, Tony motioned for Steve to sit down. Sure, his clothes were still damp, but Tony wasn't going to complain. The cushions sunk as the other man sat down, and Tony let himself slide closer. He could feel the heat radiating off him. Steve shifted to face him better, his legs crossed.

'So why'd you come around?'

'I wanted to talk,' Steve replied. 'I... _needed_ to talk. _We_ need to. About what happened. No, don't interrupt me. I get if you want to avoid me at S.H.I.E.L.D and to keep sending me chunks of meat each night, but... I'm confused, okay? This wasn't how things were done back then. I think, I don't, um, really... um, and I've got a feeling it's not how it happens now in the millennium. I've been talking to some people about this and- not at HQ, don't worry, the Internet's _great_ \- and... I guess what I want to know is, are we okay?'

'Are we okay?' Tony echoed, finally glad to be allowed to say something. 

'That's what I want to know. Because... because you've been acting really odd since, since, um, that Tuesday, and I don't know if you still want to be friends or... were we friends? I thought we were,' Steve was babbling, his cheeks suddenly reddening. 'I'd like to be, anyway. Or, uh, this one guy, he said friends with benefits, so I did some reading and there was this whole website about it and even a film and I got the impression that it's, you know, maybe what we should go for if you want. You know, friends that, uh, um- '

'I know what it is, don't worry.'

'Oh.' Steve let out what distinctively sounded like a sigh of relief. 'Good. I didn't really want to go into the intricacies- '

'Fuck buddies.'

' - of it.' 

Tony had expected Steve to go on, but, instead, he went quiet. He squirmed in his seat- it was subtle, but given Steve usually sat ram-rod straight, Tony could easily pick up the flicking of his foot, the way he clenched his fist in his jeans, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Raising a brow, Tony arched back, waiting. He could almost see the way the words bubbled up his throat, pricking his lips, the way his tongue ached to sound out the words, tapping against the tips of his teeth. He wanted to lean over and open Steve's mouth with his own, slip his fingers inside and feeling him spell out the words he was longing to say.

'I was doing something other reading.'

Ah, there it was. 'About?'

'About... the way you liked me to pull your hair, when you were, um, you know...'

'Fellating you?'

The blush that had settled on Steve's cheeks started to creep downwards, towards his collar. Wasn't this how it started before? Steve, suddenly hyper-aware of his limbs, blushing and stuttering, suddenly reminiscent of that scrawny thing Tony had seen pictures of as a teenager. He was mumbling something- 'that's one way of putting it, I guess'- his chin to his chest, eyes locked on his hands that were clasping and unclasping.

'So, what did you find out, Captain?'

'Um, well, a friend I made on the Internet, she, uh, she suggested you might be, um, masochistic.' Tony was about to cut him off, but Steve continued on, stubbornly staring at his hands the whole while. 'And I thought that was odd, because I've never seen you deliberately, um... but then I read about sexual masochism, and, um, I could only go by one instance, but, I thought, um, I thought maybe... um...'

He had to cut Steve off. As awkward as it was to watch him sink down into himself, Tony felt as though he was going to burst.

'You do realise that in order for one person to successfully be a submissive in a relationship, such as a friends with benefits situation, there must, obviously, be a more dominant party member?'

'Dominant? Oh, a dom! Right. Yes. Red mentioned- my friend, she was sort of explaining all of this to me since most of the websites... They were a bit more graphic than I was ready- _am_ ready- to deal with.'

Tony sat back into the couch, his thumb immediately coming up to his mouth. Chewing on the nail, he studied Steve. He was still curled into himself, but his eyes had finally relented from staring at his hands and had moved onto Tony. Tony's eyes ran across the blush on his cheeks, to the smattering of red disappearing down his shirt. His legs had come unfolded, and his foot was finally still, though his toes were dug firm into the carpet. Tony pulled his thumb out from between his teeth and ran the nail over his lower lip. Steve visibly swallowed, the freckles on his neck moving with his Adam's apple and a rush came over Tony to just lean over and lick it. Given how edgy Steve looked, though, Tony quickly squashed the idea.

But then the memory of Steve's grip in his hair, pulling so tight that his head hurt when he ran his own hand through it later, trying to mimic the feel of it, came rushing back. His jaw hurt for the rest of the day, and even some of the evening. His lips were swollen and red, much like his knees. He'd been aching for more of that since. 

Time to be serious.

Pushing himself up, Tony tucked a leg underneath him and turned to fully face Steve.

'I need to know if you're being honest here, Cap.'

'I'm never not honest.'

'Because I'd really like a repeat of what happened.'

'So would I.'

Well, when he put it like that... 'So do you know how all this is going to work?'

'I had some ideas... I know I'm not as experienced as you are, but... I'm a quick learner.' Fuck, that had to be the coyest smile Tony had ever seen, rivalled by only his own. 'And I'm eager. And... I really want to have another go at it. I know about safe words and setting rules and all that.'

'Good. Then two rules.' He waited until he held Steve's gaze steady. 'No blindfolds. No tying me up with telling me beforehand. That one's a grey area. But definitely no blindfolds. Got it?'

'Clear as crystal.' 

The pause stretched out between them. Tony ran his tongue over his lips, Steve's eyes following its movement. The glow from his arc reactor reflected on the other man's chest, creating a strange hue over his features. It would be so easy to just lean over, to part his lips, let his tongue stick out and run it up Steve's jaw. He could feel himself leaning closer, a faint purr coming from deep in his throat.

'When did you want to get started, then?' he murmured, voice throaty, leaning closer.

'I need to get... something,' Steve replied. He suddenly jerked away and stood up. Before Tony could reply, he was out of his grasp, and, sooner still, out of the room. 

'Well, that wasn't...' Tony trailed off as he stood up. Running his hand through his hair, he dug his bare toes into the carpet. He hadn't expected Steve to leave so soon, at least not from how he was reading the way the conversation was headed. But, he supposed, Steve was still new to all this (had the poor boy even been kissed before?) and it was to be expected he'd freeze the first time; well, not the first time exactly, but it was such a pity because Tony'd been looking forward to wrap-

'The fuck is that?' 

A large white rectangle was making its way through the doorway. He only registered for a moment that Steve was holding it, before going back to his original thought:

'What the fuck is that?'

'A canvas,' Steve replied, standing to the side of the couch, said canvas resting atop his foot. 'I want you to hold it.'

'Hold it?'

'Yes.'

The canvas was suddenly thrust into his hands, and Tony stumbled back before catching himself. He couldn't see over it, it was so tall, and he could only sense that Steve was walking around him. He felt the back of his shirt suddenly grabbed a hold of, and he tottered backwards, swaying from the weight. 

'Don't break it. It was a bit more expensive than I was thinking of paying.'

'I don't understand- '

'And don't let go.'

Listening as Steve left the room, Tony rolled his shoulders back. He stared at the back of the canvas, the panels of wood running over the stretched fabric, the nails planting it in place. Although the situation said otherwise, he knew this hadn't been what Steve had been planning on doing right now. Tony doubted that Steve had come around to have a chat about their relationship status and then paint, and he certainly doubted that Steve had planned to use Tony as the easel because that was-

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Relaxing his hands a little, it suddenly dawned on him. Steve wasn't an idiot. He was a fantastic strategist. He planned everything in his life- Tony sincerely believed that Steve had every week's wardrobe planned in advance. He thought about everything, mulled over it all, looked at each scenario from different angles. He had planned this like he planned his breakfast every night. He wanted to plan Tony, to see the outcome, to see Tony's reaction. He wanted to see Tony obey.

Tony swallowed thickly as a shiver ran up his spine. He felt his dick prickle in his pants, the flame in his belly heating just a little more.

'Glad to see you haven't moved. It was a pain to get over here and keep dry when you refused to let me in.'

There was the sound of rustling paper- newspaper from that morning, perhaps?- on the table, the clatter of noise as Steve presumably made space. A small chink of glass, then just the soft pad of Steve's bare feet on the carpet. Tony wondered if he was meant to reply. He swayed backwards as pressure was suddenly applied to the canvas, a gentle, rhythmic, up and down. He longed to look over, to see what the everloving fuck Steve was doing. 

'Did I ever tell you I was in art school?'

A question. He wracked his brain, still stuck on the idea of replying. Steve had asked him a direct question, though, so he was probably expecting an answer.

'Once,' he finally replied. They- Bruce, Steve and him- had been talking about their education. Well, Tony and Bruce had. Virtues of different colleges and the like, pros and cons. A lull had fallen and Steve had quietly announced he'd done a year of art school.

'I was more of a line artist, personally,' Steve continued, 'but I did find painting to be quite relaxing. Especially gouache. I like the thickness of it... especially the way it can catch the texture of the canvas. Lift it up a bit higher, will you?'

Tony did as he was told. Steve fell quiet, no doubt concentrating on what he was doing. He had a light touch, Tony only needing to press back a couple of times. His arms were starting to ache, but he merely readjusted his grip, and chose to focus on the brush on the opposite side of the canvas, the shadow of it reflecting through the fabric. Occasionally Steve would take a step back; Tony could hear him cleaning his brush, the sound of his feet against the carpet, the sound of him moving items on the table. He wasn't too concerned about paint dripping on the floor- he'd singed it enough times with his own experiments, and the puddle Steve had left would have Pepper clucking her tongue for days.

'Take it into the kitchen,' Steve finally said, his voice soft. 'I opened a window earlier for it to dry. Try to keep it out of reach of the rain, okay?'

Tony let out a soft noise of understanding. He couldn't move it down or away, and he found himself side-stepping around the couch and through the doorway to ensure he didn't damage it. He watched his feet carefully, only going by his own knowledge of the layout of the building that he had helped plan. As he entered the kitchen, he did a mental run over the room before deciding to rest the canvas against the table on the joined dining room. It was away from the window, but still had access to the somewhat chilly breeze. Tony finally took a step back to look at the painting. It was a swirl of colours- greens, yellows, blues, with the faintest hint of red. It wasn't until he took another step back that he realised it was a scenery piece. It was abstract, akin to a Magic Eye piece. Tony wasn't exactly an art aficionado- that was more up Pepper's alley, and he just mostly liked looking and collecting art- but he could see some technique in it. 

'Good.' 

Lifting his gaze up, he found Steve in the archway leading from the corridor. He had a damp towel in his hands, which looked as though it came from the bathroom, and was wiping the paint off his fingers. He stepped over to the far side of the table.

'I hope you like it.'

Fuck, he was taunting him to talk. Tony had no idea what would happen if he did, but he bit his tongue all the same and just nodded. Crooking a brow, a hint of a grin passed over Steve's lips. He slid the towel over the table, where it stopped right on the corner next to Tony's hips. Fucking good aim.

'You better clean that. And don't just go and toss it in the washing machine- it really ruins the quality of the threads.'

With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered out of the dining room. Not just walked, fucking _sauntered_. Gripping the towel in one hand, Tony dug his fingers into it. He could see Steve wandering away, past the room they had just been in, and around the corner. 

It was a test- Tony knew that. Wash the towel, and then what? Another test? Fuck that- he didn't graduate from MIT at seventeen by doing pop quizzes. Throwing the towel back on the table, he stalked down the corridor. He knew Stark Tower better than anyone else- he'd find Steve before Steve even knew where he was.

Well, that was the plan. He'd made his way around the corner, only to be beset upon by behind. He felt Steve's strong arm around his shoulders, the other around his middle. He barely had time to struggle when he was pulled backwards, down into what Pepper called one of the far too many spare rooms. Tony liked to think of it more as his spare spare office- for when his spare office was full of crap and his normal office was full of even more crap. 

He landed heavily on Steve's torso and finally managed to get a good grip on the uppermost arm when he suddenly found himself being flipped over. Belly to the carpet, he felt Steve pulling his arm out from around his middle and had his head pulled back, his hair being tugged. Steve's breath was hot on his cheek, and Tony couldn't help but visibly shiver at the touch of his lips on his ear.

'I thought I told you to clean the towel.'

'Get fucked. I have a cleaner for that.'

The grip in his hair tightened and Tony let out a hiss. 

'I didn't ask you to get your cleaner to do it. I told you to do it.'

'I was your easel. I took your painting to the kitchen. What else do you fucking want?'

The grip in hair loosened, as did the arm around his chest. Steve's voice was suddenly softer when he said, 'we need a safe word.' 

Tony only had to think for a second. 'Red. Simple, easy. Not so ridiculous to break the mood completely.'

Steve echoed the word once, no doubt to commit it to memory, before his grip was tightened around him once again. Tony found himself being forced onto his feet, his back firm against Steve's chest. His hips rolled back, and a shudder ran through him as his ass ground up against the beginning of Steve's erection. He heard Steve's breath catch in his throat, before he was pushed forward. He stumbled, caught his balance, and felt Steve's large hand wrap around his elbow. He let himself get led to the desk at the back of the room. With a push in between his shoulder blades, he fell forward, catching himself on top of the desk, bent over. He closed his eyes, hips rocking as he guessed what was about to come. Steve's hands made light work of his pants, undoing them and shoving them down his legs along with his boxers. His skin prickled in the cool air.

'You think it's funny to disrespect my orders?' Steve growled. His voice was low, thick with arousal, and Tony had to stop himself from grabbing his cock.

'Sometimes,' he replied, dryly. Yeah, he wanted to rile Steve up.

The first smack against his ass made his arms to collapse against the table, causing him to slam against it. His toes curled, as did his fingers. A warm rush went through him, his knees shaking. He couldn't help it- he laughed, breathless, mind rushing, his arousal growing. He looked over his shoulder just in time to find the look of concern on Steve's face melting away. 

'What, that's all you got? Do it again, I dare you.'

He did, harder this time. Tony rocked against the table, one arm reaching out, his fingernails dragging against the varnish. He could feel the skin of his ass warming, no doubt growing red and flushed. 

' _Nngh_. That all you got?'

The next smack against his ass sliding him against the table. His foot caught against the edge of it as he landed, splayed over the desk. He heard the desk creek, and his shirt was being dragged again, forcing him up, knees bent, on all fours. 

'Stay there,' Steve growled, somewhere behind him. 'Don't you dare move.'

Any kind of response Tony had been formulating short-circuited as he suddenly felt Steve's tongue, warm, wet, against his ass cheek. He pressed his face to the table and groaned, his cock pressed against his belly, hard and aching, more than his ass. He desperately wanted to grab it, relieve some of the pressure. He held off, though, as he tried to get his breathing under control and to slow his rapidly pounding heart. His panting filled his ears, as did his thumping heartbeat, to the point where he didn't even notice Steve had re-entered the room until he felt the stinging whip of terrycloth on his pink ass. It was hot, fast, the wool scratching deliciously.

'When I give you an order, Stark, I expect you to follow it. Understand?'

' _Nngh_.'

Steve clambered back on the desk, and the towel whipped against Tony's ass again. He jolted, left hand sweaty and slippery on the desktop. The next smack of the towel had him keening forward, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, eyes rolling back in his head. Steve's hand was suddenly in his hair again, pulling his head back. The hand slipped down, over his face, and Tony eagerly parted his lips and took hold of Steve's finger. He ran his tongue over the rough pad of the finger, teeth catching on the nail. He heard Steve's breath hitch in his throat. The towel suddenly entered into his line of vision as it slid across the desk. Tony barely had a moment to register it when Steve's free hand snaked its way through his hair, pulled his head back, sharp, and he felt sharp, hard teeth dig into his throat.

With a grunt, Tony reached up and grabbed Steve's wrist. Forcing his weight, he rolled to his right, landing heavily on his back. Steve's hand was still locked in his hair, the pain sweet, prickling his scalp. His pants were still stuck around his calves and ankles, his legs tangled in them. Kicking at them, he managed to get one leg free, which he used to rope around Steve's waist and he pull him down on top of him. Steve's face was flushed, not just with his typical, uncertain, naïve blush, but with arousal; his pupils were blown, his lips red, his messy bangs stuck to his forehead. 

'You gonna fuck me, Captain, or are you just going to be a tease about it?'

'I honestly didn't think that far,' Steve mumbled, his hand curling and uncurling repetitively in Tony's hair.

'I was more for flying by the seat of my pants, anyway,' Tony purred. 

As Steve was fumbling for a response, Tony leaned up and kissed him. The tremble that went though Steve's body caused him to finally collapse atop Tony, his whole body was rattling with the shiver. The bravado he seemed to be radiating melted away, particularly as Tony slipped his hands up the back of his shirt. The tip of Tony's tongue teased at Steve's lips, tapping against the edge of his teeth. He felt, rather than heard, Steve whimper against his lips, and Tony took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into Steve's mouth. 

Grabbing the hem of Steve's shirt, he yanked it up, breaking the kiss only to pull it over Steve's head. His own shirt soon followed suit, it being tossed somewhere off the desk. As Steve came to lay back down on top of him, he jolted at the touch of the arc reactor against his own flesh. 

''S'okay,' Tony muttered against Steve's mouth, 'Won't hurt.' 

With that, he moved his hands down between them, fingers suddenly feeling thick, uncoordinated. Somehow he managed to get Steve's jeans undone. He shoved them down, perhaps a little rougher than absolutely necessary, but at that moment he didn't care. His hands were fumbling with the briefs, when Steve's hand suddenly shot down between them, yanking them off. Before Tony could comment, Steve had his fist around both their cocks. His eyes grew wider and a low moan rumbled from the back of his throat.

'T- Tony...'

Burying his face in Steve's neck, Tony tentatively licked the side of it, over the freckles he had been staring at earlier, his tongue finding Steve's rapid pulse. Rolling his head back to allow better access, Steve adjusted his grip and started to move his hand. The pace had slowed between them, but the air was hot, muggy, as though there was not enough air to go around. Tony rocked up into Steve's grip, his mind going hazy for a moment. He wouldn't last long, not at this rate. Reaching between them, he grabbed Steve's fist and wrapped his own hand around, tightening the grip around their joined cocks.

'T- '

Steve came, his whole body shuddering. His mouth smeared over Tony's face, his breath hot against the other man's cheeks. His come was warm, sticky, on Tony's hand. Licking a line up Steve's neck, Tony nipped his earlobe and gave it a firm suck. Steve was shaking, hard, his eyes shut tight, his shoulders heaving as he gulped down air. His body was twisting, quivering, mouth open and wet on Tony's cheek. As much as Tony wanted to keep laying underneath him and continue to drink in the sight, his cock was still hard and throbbing. 

'You gonna jack me off, Steve, or am I going to need to do it myself?'

Steve opened his eyes at that. The corner of his eye was wet, the hint of a blissed-out tear hanging thee. The trembling died off. He struggled up into a kneeling positions, knees either side of Tony's legs. Letting his still half-hard cock slip from his hand, he re-established his grip on Tony's alone. It wasn't the best hand job he'd ever received- Steve was inexperienced, his technique sloppy. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hand, and Tony could tell that he'd only ever practiced on himself. That thought, though, of Steve curled up around himself in his bed, teeth biting his pillow (and okay, maybe that was just Tony projecting himself into the fantasy) and jacking off onto his sheet, made him moan low and roll his hips up, trying to match Steve's offbeat rhythm. 

Staring up at him, he felt Steve's other hand grab at his hip, his fingers pressing down hard. He could already picture the bruises forming on his elbow and upper arm, his still-stinging ass, the ones that would form over the bony protrusion of his hip. He wanted to lick Steve's chest, his clavicles, his fingers, ears, neck, wherever he could reach. His tongue ran over his lips, teeth sinking down, jaw clenching. Steve bent down over him, hand still messily stroking his cock. Tony strained up to kiss him, his lips tingling to touch him, but Steve avoided his efforts. Instead, he breathed hot into Tony's ear, his cheek scratching against the stubble of the other man's cheek.

'I want you to come for me, Tony,' he hissed.

Tony arched his back, Steve having finally managed to get a regular rhythm going. His lips slammed onto Steve's, the kiss hard, rough, all tongue and teeth. It didn't take much for him to come, hot and sticky, the orgasm rolling over him like a tidal wave. His muscles froze, the arc reactor in his chest running overtime, humming as it attempted to regulate his heartbeat. He could feel Steve's mouth smearing over his cheek, down his jawline and against his pulse point on his throat, his Adam's apple. It seemed to coax him back, his skin humming, his muscles singing as he slumped back on the desk.

Steve was still kissing him, gentle, nipping kisses over his jawline, up his cheek and along his brow. Tony purred under him, vaguely murmuring, hips still rutting. Nuzzling under his jaw, Steve left a trail of kisses there. Both hands were on Tony's hips, one of them sticky, strings of white between his fingers.

'Feels like you need a shower,' Tony mumbled, his mouth suddenly difficult to move. He didn't want to move from where he was, although his tailbone was starting to ache from being pressed into the hard wood 

Looking up at Steve, he saw him already watching him, brows turned up, his lower lip pouting a little. 

'You want to cuddle, don't you?'

'I never said...'

'Can we do that _after_ a shower?'

Steve gave a noise in terms of agreement. 

'Never dealt with cuddlers before,' Tony admitted as Steve moved off him and helped him up. 

'I've never cuddled before,' Steve replied with a shy smile. He grabbed his clothes, jeans having fallen off at some point, and held them in front of his crotch.

Tony gestured for him to go first. He wouldn't lie if pressed- it was just an excuse to check out Steve's ass and to imagine running his tongue up the middle of his back. He'd have to give it a go when they were out of the shower.

*

 **WorldBreaker:** And that's when he brought the arrows out. Do you think I should be worried?

 **RedBack28:** does it bother you?

 **WorldBreaker:** Yes? No? It doesn't bother me so much as worry me. I haven't had a relationship in a long time... the last one ended, erm, badly. I have some anger management issues.

 _shieldslinger:_ _has entered the room_

 **RedBack28:** hey S.S.  
Sounds like he likes you a lot. Or the sex, or both. have you told him?

 **WorldBreaker:** He knows... I made it obvious very early on. I just have trouble separating relationship/sex. I know he has a thing going on with another woman, and that doesn't bother me, but... I want to take it slowly.  
Anyway, my centrifuge is ringing. Thanks, Red, you give great advice.

_WorldBreaker:_ _has left the room_

**shieldslinger:** Please stop calling me S.S. It makes me uncomfortable.

 **RedBack28:** sorry. anyway how'd your visit with the guy go?

 **Sharpshooter:** did u stik it in him/?

 **RedBack28:** christ, i thought you'd left.

 **Sharpshooter:** lol no  
wnted 2c what B was goin to say

 **shieldslinger:** It went well.

 **RedBack28:** and...?

 **shieldslinger:** It would be impolite to say anything else. But it went well. We talked about everything and...  
It went really well.

 **Sharpshooter:** omg u two had sex didnt u  
omg  
its like the sesaon finae l of my favrite tv show  
its so beuitful

 **shieldslinger:** Anyway, I just wanted to let you know and say thanks for everything, Red. And Sharp... um, thanks as well. I think.

 **Sharpshooter:** netime buddy

 **RedBack28:** you're welcome.

 _shieldslinger:_ has left the room

 **RedBack28:** wow, Bruce really should get into writing porn.

 **trolololol:** IKR? I'm as hard as an elevator paradox right now.

 **Sharpshooter:** TONY???/


End file.
